A Hero's Legacy
by The Viking Dreamer
Summary: Captain America's involvement in the Battle of New York impacts one life in a way he didn't expect.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first time writing fanfic in any way, shape, or form, so if you have any suggestions for anything I could do better, please let me know! R&R if you feel like it.**

Andrea woke up, and the first thought that popped into her head was, _Today's the day._

She quickly got dressed and ate, being careful not to wake her still-sleeping parents. Both worked hard, and deserved to sleep in on the weekends a lot more than they did. After retrieving the rolled-up poster from her room, she crept past her parents' room. Her heartbeat fluttered with excitement and nervousness as she opened the door to the empty bedroom at the end of the hall, turning the doorknob as slowly as she could. It only let out a quiet _click_, thankfully.

The room looked the same way it had for exactly a year. The bed was neatly made, all the little throw pillows arranged just the same way the owner had left them. Books and several CDs stood where they had been left stacked on the nightstand. Andrea inhaled, a quiet sadness flooding her when she didn't smell the sweet-pea perfume that used to linger here.

"Time to go," she said aloud, tearing herself out of her trancelike state. She picked up the baseball cap that had been lying on the floor beside the closet, blew the dust off the New York Giants logo and the bill, and put it on.

The cab ride between her apartment and the convention center downtown gave her enough time to question her motives. Why was she doing this? Was it for closure? She pulled off the baseball cap, along with a few strands of her blonde hair that had gotten snagged in the snap-close adjuster band, and stared at it. How did she even know this was going to work?

When she arrived at the convention center, people were swarming through the doors, most in costume. Over a hundred voices speaking at once created a massive, incoherent babble that echoed off the ceiling and walls. After signing in (and coughing up no small amount of her hard-earned cash for the admissions fee), Andrea set her face, stuck her rolled-up poster under one arm, and wove through the crowd, careful not to step on the trailing edges of capes or gowns or bump protruding elbows.

A bubble of solitude enveloped her as she strode through the convention center, heading for the main stage. Every few seconds she glanced down at the map in her hands, reassuring herself she hadn't taken a wrong turn and wasn't hopelessly lost in the sea of pop culture surrounding her. Though nervousness ate at her stomach, she kept her head up, trying to look as if she had everything together and knew exactly what she was doing.

She knew the main stage when she saw it. Streamers alternating red, white, and blue with white stars hung from the ceiling around the stage. A huge banner was draped at the back, and a strange tightness rose in her throat when she saw the face emblazoned across it.

MEET CAPTAIN AMERICA, the banner read, NEW YORK'S OWN AVENGER.

_Wouldn't that be Tony Stark, too? _Andrea wondered. She'd often seen the Stark Tower, standing tall in downtown Manhattan. Tony—Ironman—was as much a New Yorker as Captain America.

But that wasn't the thought she needed to focus on.

A figure appeared onstage, and the convention-goers starting cheering. Andrea rose up on her tiptoes, but an eighties Wolverine, complete with spiked blue hair, blocked her line of sight. She let out a huff of frustration and edged forward until she came upon a relatively unobstructed spot in the crowd, and there he was. Steve Rogers, alias Captain America.

Clad in his patriotic suit, his muscular body easily over six feet tall, he towered above the crowd, larger than life. The shield that hung on his left arm was battered, but the star in its center was still clear. He waved, generating another surge of cheering from the crowd.

Andrea unrolled her poster and held it up with both hands. Ignoring a sarcastic "Holy obstructed view, Batman" from behind her, she stretched as high as her small frame would allow, straining to lift the sign above the sea of faces.

She had spent nearly a week painstakingly lettering the sign, ensuring that enough black lined the red letters so that the proclamation stood out blazing clear: YOU SAVED MY SISTER'S LIFE. A lump sat in her throat as she watched, heart pounding, wondering if he would see.

The hero took notice, and his expression changed beneath the helmet.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, but finals got in the way of fiction. Thanks to those who favorited/followed this story! Short chapter this time. (Not that the last wasn't short…)**

Andrea held her breath, waiting. But after a moment, Captain America turned his attention back to the crowd, a smile lighting his face. He spoke, and his voice boomed from the speakers rigged around the stage, but Andrea couldn't make out the words. It all sounded like rushing wind, the world around her a blur.

She stood there for what felt like hours, though her watch told her it was less than thirty minutes, as Captain America signed autographs and posed for pictures. Finally he raised his hand in farewell and disappeared offstage. The crowd began to disperse, excited chatter cluttering the air.

_What was I expecting to feel? _Andrea asked herself as she turned away. Certainly not this…numbness. She'd thought…she'd thought that once she'd done this there would be a feeling of reassurance, a feeling of comfort, a feeling that the universe might cast its glance on her and take a moment to pat her on the back. Tell her it would be alright.

How naïve.

Head down, she worked her way back to the front doors of the convention center, her sign clutched in one hand. An Eleventh Doctor bumped against her, muttering an apology as he straightened his bowtie. Andrea nodded silently and kept walking.

"You're the girl with the big sign, right?" a voice called from behind her.

She whirled around to see a convention security guard, walk-talkie in hand.

"Yeah, I have a sign," she replied automatically, shocked. Recovering a little, she went on, "But there are lots of girls here with signs."

"Maybe so," the guard said, quirking an eyebrow, "but most of them say 'marry me, so-and-so', not 'you saved my sister's life'."

"Is something the matter?"

"Apparently you made an impression on someone."

She wasn't sure if it was real or her imagination, but Andrea felt her heart skip a beat. She realized suddenly that she was staring at the guard, mouth hanging open very slightly. He laughed—though not unkindly—as she snapped her jaw shut with an audible _click._

"Follow me—and what's your name?"

"Andrea," she whispered. "Andrea Blake."

_It must have been him. He noticed. He saw the sign! _As she trailed behind the guard, Andrea couldn't help but put a little skip in her step. She smiled, and reached up to adjust her baseball cap.

_I'm finally meeting Captain America._


End file.
